


Part of Their Lives

by westwingfanfictioncentral_archivist



Category: The West Wing
Genre: Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-07-08
Updated: 2003-07-08
Packaged: 2019-05-15 11:17:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,833
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14789501
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/westwingfanfictioncentral_archivist/pseuds/westwingfanfictioncentral_archivist
Summary: Character loss...





	Part of Their Lives

**Author's Note:**

> A copy of this work was once archived at National Library, a part of the [ West Wing Fanfiction Central](https://fanlore.org/wiki/West_Wing_Fanfiction_Central), a West Wing fanfiction archive. More information about the Open Doors approved archive move can be found in the [announcement post](http://archiveofourown.org/admin_posts/8325).

**Part of Their Lives**

**by:** Cathy

**Character(s):** CJ, Leo, Sam, Josh  
**Category(s):** General, Angst  
**Rating:** TEEN  
**Summary:** Character loss  
**Disclaimer(s):** These characters are owned by Aaron Sorkin et al, not by me. I don’t make any  


He undid his tie for the seventh time, and sighed. Normally he found someone else to tie these damn things for him, but of course there was no one else around. Everyone else had gone home to prepare in the comfort of their own homes. 

In fact, many of them hadn’t actually come in at all that day, but of course no one was going to pull them up on that. Especially as Leo had been one of those not in.

Attempting to redo his tie yet again, he thought over why he hadn’t gone home. He couldn’t explain why, but for some reason he hadn’t felt able to leave his office. It was safe in his office, he could pretend that everything was okay. That everyone would be in as normal the next day, and that he was simply running late. 

The trouble was every minute he kept expecting to hear the voices of his friends, cheerfully calling around his door, as they would on any normal day. Except this wasn’t a normal day. And there would be no one bothering him at his door. Most notably not the one person he most wanted to see.

 He gave up on the tie, and left it looking shoddy. Probably no one would notice. And if they did, well it just reflected his mood.  Picking up his jacket he moved out of his office, switching the light off, and slammed the door behind him. 

And bumped straight into her.

Of course she would be here, where else would she be? She hadn’t been in today, most of the women hadn’t. Yet she wouldn’t go without him.

How could he have thought that.

Taking her hand, they silently walked out of the deserted White House, and into the waiting car.

CJ was glad he hadn’t put up any resistance.

She wanted to be here for him, but wouldn’t have been up to an argument right now.

If he had refused to go with her, she would have left. 

But he hadn’t refused. 

Of course he hadn’t seemed glad to see her, she doubted any of them would be looking glad that day, but she needed to be with him. Today of all days. He may have wanted to be alone, but she couldn’t. 

She didn’t feel up to it.

And she knew that in a few minutes both of them would be very grateful for the shoulder to cry on.

Arriving at the church they stopped outside the main doors. He was shocked to see the barrage of reporters waiting for them.

He didn’t know why he had forgotten they’d be there. Of course they would, such a high profile event as this. 

Wherever the President would be, the press were bound to follow.

And yet still, it just felt...wrong. So damn wrong!

Amazingly, as they began to walk forward, not a reporter spoke a word. All remained silent, with their eyes trained on the floor. Only two cameras flashed, and each was followed by an apologetic nod from the photographer. The photographer was, of course, just doing his job. But still...not here. Not now.

He barely noticed the reporters’ silence as they walked in. A fact that would normally have floored him, forcing one of those infamous smart-alec quips out of him, today passed him by.

All his focus was just on continuing to breathe. To remember to put one foot in front of the other.

 Not to cave in, not to just give up and curl into a little ball, hiding away from the world forever.

She gazed around numbly when they’d entered past security. 

Normally so in control, normally so aware, today she didn’t even register who was there.

A sea of faces swam before her. Some familiar she was sure, some new. 

But not the one she wanted! Never the one face, the one person, she was dying to see.

No, not die. That wasn’t appropriate.

And yet...true. 

Yes, she realises, she would die, if it only meant that she could see him again.

A familiar face walks towards her. She turns, but as the words wash over her, she hears nothing.

The speaker pauses, realising her friend isn’t hearing her.

Taking their arms the First Lady gently steers them to a pew, where more familiar faces glance up at them.

‘Yes’ CJ realises ‘here’s where he’ll be. That’s why we didn’t see him earlier, he’d be here with his friends. Arguing with Toby as he always does.’

Frantically she scans the pews, her face falling.

Of course he isn’t here. She knew that.

And yet, for a moment she’d hoped.  A hope that she shouldn’t have had.

Being here, amongst all his friends, that’s when it hits her.

She won’t see him. Not here, not ever.

And then the tears begin to fall.

He sees her crying, and turns away. He can’t watch, otherwise his own tears will start.

But then he looks over at his other friends and sees every pair of eyes match CJ’s next to him. 

All had given in.

Dignity, held on to _so_ strongly at the office, had been left outside here.

And here, in the safety of this place, they allow their tears to fall unchecked.

At the front the minister cleared his throat, gently opening the service.

And so, reluctantly, they all turned their eyes to him, forcing themselves to see what they hadn’t allowed themselves to acknowledge yet.

The casket was raised upon a small wooden platform, surrounded by what seemed like hundreds of wreaths.

Inside, hidden from view, lay their friend.

That still body all that that remained of the life, energy and enthusiasm of Samuel Norman Seaborn.

As Josh fixed his eyes on that cold box, he finally allowed his control to drop, and silently down his face ran the long suppressed tears.

CJ was the first to give a eulogy for her friend:

“A dreamer. An idealist. 

That was Sam. 

We all know politics has a way of disillusioning you.

But not Sam, never Sam. 

We’d be talking about the image of something. Or how it would affect our approval rating.

Sam? He’d just be talking about what was right. 

About what would actually help most people.

I honestly believe he was the only man who still believed politics was about helping people.

Yes, he was naïve too. Not in a childish way, but in the sense that he believed the best in everyone.

He was disappointed so many times. Yet he never stopped trusting. Always hoping, and seeing the best.

Sam, I’m sorry for every time we ever disappointed you.

I wish  we could have lived up to your high ideals, instead of trying to drag you down to ours.

I’m glad we never changed you.

I’m glad you stayed you.

Because just being you, just being Samuel Seaborn, that was enough.

That was always more than enough.” 

Leo passed her as he made his way forward. Holding the crying woman momentarily in his arms, he continued, ready to give the hardest speech of his life so far:

“Sam always wanted the best. He wouldn’t agree with our settling for what we could get. 

He would always be the one who strove for more, who strove to get us exactly what it was he thought we deserved to get.

And more often then not he got it.

Because people responded to Sam.

They couldn’t help but respond to his enthusiasm.

Ever tried refusing a sweet to pleading child in a candy store?

That was what trying to say no to Sam was like.

You didn’t want to let him down

You could see that he really believed in whatever issue he was campaigning this time.

And not just on the political field.

Sam had a heart for people, and would try to help them no matter what.

However many times we may tell him not to, you knew he’d be out there.

Ignoring all risk to himself or his reputation.

Because he believed in people.

And maybe we should have all learnt that belief from him.

As I see around me all the people whose lives he’s touched I’m proud to have known him.

Proud to have been a part of the life of a special young man, a true believer in people.”

Josh was the last to speak, and at first didn’t think he’d be able to. He didn’t think he was ready.

He looked over at all the crying faces before him as he stood at the lectern, and remembered that he wasn’t the only one mourning. 

And that he owed Sam these final words:

“My friend. 

My closest and dearest friend.

I don’t know what else to say.

I wouldn’t be the person I am today if it wasn’t for you.

With you I didn’t have to say how I felt, you already knew.

You kept me in check, you weren’t afraid to tell me exactly what you thought.

You often bounced ideas off me, and I loved to play devil’s advocate for you.

But so often, I was convinced by you.

Yes an idealist you may have been, and we all admired that in you.

But you were also a damn good lawyer.

When you took to an idea, you ran with it, and would always, always, see it thorough to the end.

Your principles didn’t change with the vote count.

They were you. 

They made you who you were.

And you made us who we are.

I’ll miss you Sam.

I can’t imagine a life without you in it.

I  hope we made life good for you while you were here, because you certainly made it the best for us.

Thank you.

For being you. And for being the best friend I could have had.” 

With that Josh stepped down from the lectern, and walked slowly back to his seat. Tears were running down every face he passed.

A small part of him was pleased.

Pleased that Sam evoked such emotion in so many people.

Pleased that Sam would get such a good send off.

He hoped Sam could see them now.

That he could see just how much of a difference he had made to all these people.

He joined all his friends as the made their way out into the graveyard.

Silently they watched Sam’s body be lowered to it’s final resting place.

A place that would be well visited over the coming years.

Friends coming to tell of election results

To tell of weddings and births

To tell of other deaths

To remember birthdays and anniversaries

And to keep a very special young man, who always held a part of their hearts, a continual part of their lives. 


End file.
